


Variantale: Snowfall Chapter 2

by TychoAzrephet



Series: Variantale [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Confrontations, Monologue, Multi, One sided conversation, Slow Build, Variantale, Winter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-03
Updated: 2017-04-03
Packaged: 2018-10-14 12:05:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10536111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TychoAzrephet/pseuds/TychoAzrephet
Summary: After finally tracking down Frisk, Sans spends a good bit of time thinking out loud and doing his best to intimidate them, accomplishing that pretty well as it turns out. Things take a dire turn when the matter of Papyrus is brought up, and we're well on the way to a rematch centuries due...





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second installment of my new Undertale AU series, Variantale. By my estimates at this rate Snowfall will be upwards of parts, before we move on to the second act. For now, its a good bit of set up for a very long and elaborate action sequence, so be sure to stay tuned for that. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, be sure to check out the first chapter if you haven't already. :)
> 
> -Tycho

A resounding silence followed Sans revealing himself, the human freezing in place where they stood, trembling visibly as they turned around slowly to face him. At the sight of the grinning skeleton only inches away, the human stumbled backwards in panic, losing their balance and falling unto the pile of branches. The lengths of wood splintered loudly beneath them, but the human seemed unfazed by their tumble, staring up at Sans with a horrified expression. The two held each other’s gaze wordlessly for timeless seconds, before Sans let out a small chuckle, peeling the whoopie cushion off of his hand and tossing it over his shoulder carelessly. “Not fallin’ for that one again, huh? Heh, guess I can’t be too surprised, you’ve grown up quite a bit since I pulled that gag. Haven’t ya...Frisk?”

 

The human’s eyes widened in shock as Sans spoke their true name aloud, gripped with sheer uncomprehending fear as Sans grinned down at them, the skeletons eye sockets void of any warmth. Sans shrugged nonchalantly, pushing his hands into their pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels slowly. “What’s the matter, kid? Figured you’d be happy to see a familiar face. It gets kinda...lonely out here, ya know? Nobody to talk to. Nobody to watch your back. I can’t imagine what it musta been like for ya...all these years…” Sans said, his voice laden with what might have been interpreted as sympathy, were it not for Frisk picking up on the undertone of virulent disdain in every word. They kept their eyes glued on the skeletons sleeves, splinters digging into their back and frost seeping into their clothes, terrified to shift their position even slightly lest it prompt an attack. Sans sighed wistfully and took a step closer, causing Frisk to flinch involuntarily, their heart pounding wildly as the skeleton began to walk in a wide circle around them.

 

Sans shuffled slowly and leisurely through the snow, appearing totally relaxed as he lifted his skull to stare at the darkness that hung above their heads, his sockets drinking in the emptiness as his smile grew incrementally. “As for me? Eh, I’ve been stayin’ busy.” he said, glancing over at Frisk and chuckling, the hollow sound sending chills up their spine. “Hehehe...I know, shocking, right? Yeah, turns out, doin’ nothin’ gets kinda dull after awhile. Guess ya could say...” he continued, suddenly whipping out his left hand and snapping his fingers at Frisk, the human scrambling backwards in fright. “...I was bored outta my skull!”

 

Sans paused mid-step and started cackling, shutting his eyes and clapping his hands together in amusement, Frisk could only stare silently at the laughing skeleton as his giggling further unnerved them. After a few moments Sans’ laughter came to an abrupt stop, the lights in his sockets sparking back to life as he opened them, looking at Frisk and rubbing his chin in faux confusion. “Hmmm...eh, ya probably heard that one before, right? Welp, I’ll haveta use some new material then.” he said, squaring his feet and cracking his knuckles, the sound of popping bones harsh and grating. He looked at Frisk and smiled genially, gesturing for them to stand up, his eyes staring them down unblinkingly. The human shakily climbed to their feet, posture hunched and face drawn anxiously, unable to stop themselves from looking to their fallen knife as it laid half buried in snow. If Sans noticed the subtle movement of Frisk’s eyes, he didn’t let on, instead he cleared his throat to draw their attention. “Alrighty, whaddya call a Froggit without legs?” he asked jollily, tilting his skull slightly at an angle, grinning wide as he looked at Frisk expectantly. The human blinked, nonplussed at Sans’ question, deeply confused and unsettled by the skeletons insistence on telling trivial jokes. Frisk made no visible effort to speak or offer any response, the silence between the two building to an uncomfortable length, until Sans unexpectedly shifted his stance and snapped both of his fingers. “Hoppin’ mad!” he exclaimed gleefully, pausing for a moment to allow his one person audience to laugh, the only audible sound he received was the distant moaning of wind. Frisk looked Sans up and down, forcing themselves to make eye contact despite their rapidly fraying nerves, trying to figure out what the skeleton was trying to do. At any moment, the human fully expected Sans to begin his assault, convinced that his oddly morbid puns were an attempt to put them off their guard. Frisk was loathe to admit it, but Sans’ approach was working, paranoia mounting as a cold sweat formed on the nape of their neck.

 

The skeleton slowly lowered his hands to his sides, his grin shrinking fractionally, shutting his eyes and shaking his skull slightly. “Not even a smirk, huh? Oh well, ‘least I tried...” Sans said ruefully, raising his right hand and snapping his fingers, the sound piercingly louder than his comic signature. Within seconds, the already chilling temperature plummeted as snow began to fall rapidly, the tearing winds roaring into a roiling frenzy. Frisk gripped their shoulders tightly and huddled over in a futile attempt for warmth, shivering underneath their inadequate clothing, eyes slitted against the growing blizzard. Sans opened his eyes and stared through the torrent of sleet at the freezing human, his left eye socket glowing with a fiery blue light, crossing his arms and leaning into the wind as casually as he’d lean against a wall.

 

“So, kid…” Sans said, his voice carrying easily to Frisk’s ears despite the howling wind between them, his words stinging at the human just as coldly. “...before we start, I wanted to ask ya a couple...questions. Don’t worry, I’m not expecting you to answer. First off, when’d ya realize the resets were ruining this world?” he asked, smirking at the sight of Frisks expression, their jaw almost dropping in shock. The skeleton chuckled emptily and shrugged, idly kicking at tiny pieces of snow. “Don’t look so surprised, kiddo, I knew from the very beginning. All I could do was try and discourage ya, and, well...that plan didn’t exactly work out now, did it? After the first few hundred, I was getting pretty tired of going through our little stories...by the time we got to a thousand, I started picking up on a few things. Trees randomly disappearing, odd patches of ground wildly shifting colors, even Snowdin started to...change.” Sans said, running a hand slowly over his skull as memories of his previous lives tumbled through his mind, the magical flame of his eye flaring brighter as the cold magnified. Frisk’s teeth started to chatter, their shivering growing more severe as pallor spread over their skin, eyeing Sans’ line of sight carefully. Whenever the skeletons eyes were off them, they dared a hesitant half step forward, closer to their fallen weapon. “I guess...that’s what really broke me, ya know?” Sans mused, unclear whether or not he was addressing Frisk, as if his awareness of the situation was fading in and out. “It’s kinda sad to think...but I sorta...got used to getting killed. It didn’t bother me as much anymore, but...watching this world slowly decay with every reset...I couldn’t take it.” he continued, a terrible weariness evident in his voice, his gaze suddenly snapping up to glare at Frisk. The human jarred their incremental progress to a halt, petrified by the loathing, hauntingly blue light spilling forth from the skeletons sockets. “You though, bet ya didn’t even lose a step. So what if reality itself is crumbling, huh? As long as you got to keep...playing your game.” Sans spoke through gritted teeth, his last three words punctured with palpable disgust, Frisk shuddered as Sans’ malice translated to battering gusts of wind.

 

With a desperate lunge, Frisk lurched forward and scrabbled through the snow, hand wrapping around the handle of the knife. They scrambled to their feet, clutching the gleaming blade defensively, confidence resurging as their fingers felt the familiar grain. The human turned their focus back to Sans...only to stare at vacant space where the skeleton had been standing. Frisk’s heart dropped to their stomach, spinning around in panic, desperately searching for their adversary. “Second question.” whispered a harsh, empty voice next to their ear, causing Frisk to leap away and slash at the sound reflexively. The knife whistled through swirling snow, leaving them panting as blood pumped through their system, eyes widened in fright. “Why come all the way out here?” the voice continued, emanating from a few feet behind Frisk, the human swallowed dryly and turned to face Sans. The skeleton stood next to an emaciated sapling, running a finger over the ice coated branches absently, eye sockets still smoldering with excess energy. “I’m not egotistical enough to assume you were only hiding from yours truly, though ya must’ve thought somebody was after you, covering your tracks as well as ya did.” he said, flashing a menacing grin at Frisk, satisfied at they involuntarily gripped their knife tighter.

 

By this point, a proper blizzard had built around the opposing figures, Sans coat billowing behind him as iceey flakes bounced harmlessly off his bones. In contrast, Frisk was well aware of the disadvantage the storm presented, having to constantly flex their fingers and shift their stance just to avoid frostbite. Their hair was streaked with frost as it was batted about by errant gusts, cold leaching into their body through their flimsy clothing, they could only glare at the skeleton as he continued his monologue undaunted. “Undyne maybe, didn’t even have the patience to fight her this run, did ya? Nah, shoving her off a bridge after that poor kid was much faster, saved ya a whole five minutes. Speaking of time, never seen ya tear through the Underground so fast, kid.” Sans said, chuckling and brushing the ice off his shoulders, the snow evaporating violently as his magic contacted it. Frisk maintained their expressionless demeanor, but internally the humans thought were a maelstrom. Caught between contemplating Sans’ uncanny knowledge of their actions and feverishly preparing a defense strategy for the skeletons inevitable attack. Sans, for his part, projected an air of utter control. Every subtle twitch of his fingers sent wind lashing at Frisk, the temperature dropping so quickly their sweat had started to freeze, beginning to lose sensation in their extremities. “Makes me wonder, why the rush? You were always so...methodical, before that day.” Sans continued, directing his attention away from the sapling and facing Frisk directly, his smile fixed and static as he took a deliberate step towards them. The human stiffened, but did not retreat, digging their heels into the snow in anticipation for his approach. The skeleton seemed pleased by their display of resolution, lacing his fingers together behind his back, starting to stalk as opposed to his usual stroll. “Somethin’ musta spooked you bad, kid. Bad enough to make ya sloppy, leaving survivors is never a smart move. Especially with this lot, monsters are...pretty good at rebuilding, ya know?” he asked, his tone deceptively light-hearted, somewhat betrayed by his looming silhouette. Frisk raised their knife, half as an attempt at an intimidating gesture, half as a security reflex. With every step the skeleton took, the tension between them mounted, while the ice laden winds raged on. Sans stopped a mere ten feet away, Frisk meeting his luminous gaze evenly, the opponents squaring off for a long minute before Sans made a move. He slowly raised his hand, fingers primed to snap, Frisk tensing in preparation to dodge whatever was coming.

 

To their surprise, upon Sans snapping his fingers, the frigid tempest surrounding them died out in an instant. The clearing was left in an almost unnatural silence, Frisk became aware only of their own breathing, the racing of their heart as anxiety mounted further. Sans lowered his hand and raised his skull to look up past Frisk, seemingly infatuated with some distant object above their head, a fleeting thing that only the skeleton could see. “One last question, kid. This one, I expect you to answer, so drop the whole mute act just for a minute.” Sans said, his voice strangely soft and calm, no trace of antagonism on his face. He looked Frisk dead in the eye, and somehow, the human briefly believed that Sans might’ve had no ill intent after all. Then the skeleton spoke, and any doubt was dispelled, the question they had been dreading finally delivered point blank.

 

“Why’d ya kill him, Frisk? Why did you kill Papyrus?”

 

It seemed the whole forest fell quiet at Sans’ words, nature itself holding an anxious breath, Frisk felt as though all the eyes left in this fractured world were staring straight through them. At this point, they had gotten used to Sans’ one sided soliloquy, but now the skeleton looked them down wordlessly as he waited for a response. The silence between them stretched on for a few minutes, then a dozen, almost half an hour passed without Frisk making any effort to speak. For an eerily familiar moment, they felt themselves standing back in the Judgement Hall of Dreemurr Castle, exhausted yet primed to strike as they watched Sans slowly drift off to sleep after his final attack. No hope of that happening again this time, Sans was wired and animate, eyes pulsing with magic he could barely constrain. After another few moments dragged on, Sans clenched his hands into fists as his frustration grew, taking a deep breath and exhaling to keep his voice steady.

 

“I’m not talking about all the other times you...murdered him. I’m talking about that day, ten years ago, when the resets stopped.” he said, keeping his tone deliberately flat and neutral, though Frisk had started to pick up on the notes of desperation. “Ya know, I didn’t start tracking you right away, hell it took me a few months just to crawl out of bed. I figured, what was the point? Even if I found you, you’d just hit the button, and this whole...fucking nightmare would start up anew like always.” Sans continued, his efforts to keep his voice under control faltering, cracking as years of pent up anguish flared wildly in his soul. Frisk could only stare at the skeleton as he started to tremble in place, his jaw clenched shut as an emotional fit gripped him, magic spilling down his sleeves and gathering at his feet. “Then I thought, why hadn’t it happened already? It dawned on me...you can’t do it anymore, can you? The power you held over this world, over the innocents you’ve tortured, somehow you lost it. That’s why you panicked, why you ran at a dead sprint towards the castle, towards the Barrier. It was your only chance, your only way out. You didn’t stop for anything...except...except to kill him.” he uttered through gritted teeth, his eye sockets bursting a seething blue fire, an aura of magic scorching the earth surrounding him. Frisk opened their mouth, perhaps in an attempt to placate Sans’ rant or simply hanging open in shock, but it didn’t matter. Sans was beyond interrupting, gripping the sides of his skull as his powers pounded against his bones, eager to escape and wreak havoc. “It...doesn’t make any sense. You were trying to reach the end as fast as possible...not lay waste to everything. Just...the ones you couldn’t avoid killing, right?! But Paps...kid, he...he would’ve carried you to the damn castle if you’d asked him! You’ve ignored...so much...disregarded all the damage you’ve done. Why...why couldn’t you have done the same for him?!” Sans was near hysterical at this point, stricken with grief and rage, dark blue tears dripping down over his teeth. Frisk watched in mixed horror and fascination as minute cracks began to spread along Sans’ knuckles and jawline, radiant magic enveloping his body in a ghastly shroud, his form barely recognizable as arcane energy flowed like a living armor over his bones. Sans’ skull suddenly snapped up to glare at Frisk, his gaze filled with unfathomable hatred, the human feeling a true urge to flee for the first time.

 

“Well?! What was it, you evil little bastard?! Why couldn’t you have just left him alone?! ANSWER ME!!”

 

Sans’ voice echoed as his shouting grew louder, resonating with the vestiges of harrowing magic, nearby snow drifts collapsing and icicles shattering at his words. Frisk felt crippling fear shoot through them, doubts welling in their mind as they trembled before the skeleton, desperately trying to think of something to say that would save them. Before they could formulate any such solution, something stirred within the depths of their soul...a presence that had kept dormant for years. It wrested control away from Frisk for only a brief moment, long enough to flash Sans a taunting sneer, throwing up their hands and giving an exaggeratedly apathetic shrug.

 

Within seconds, Sans’ magic died out, leaving the skeleton seemingly in a daze. His arms hung limp at his sides, sandals sinking into the snow beneath his feet, eyes shut as if enraptured by the quiet around him. “Heh..hehehe…” he chuckled, a sound without any trace of humor, ringing with a profound exhaustion. When he opened his eyes again, Frisk was left staring into two empty pits...only they weren’t empty. A pitch black, abyssal substance churned and shifted within Sans’ skull, his sockets a glimpse into the depthless Void. Sans flicked his left wrist in an offhand motion, Frisk felt the ground begin to tremble violently beneath their feet, dodging away a half second before a cluster of ethereal bones burst upwards and speared clean through the earth. They climbed shakily to their feet, eyes wide and stance caged, a cold dread settling over them as Sans’ serene face was split by a fearsomely crazed grin.

 

“Alright, let’s go.”


End file.
